Succedaneum
by LittleDarlingXOX
Summary: Red Robin, Nightwing, and Batman are on patrol battling Poison Ivy. When an injured Robin decides to break the rules, Tim finds he will be going to lengths he'd never thought he'd have to go for the youngest Robin. Warning: includes sex pollen.
1. Chapter 1

_Succedaneum: A person or thing that takes the place of another_

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><p>Red Robin crouched over the edge of a rooftop building, a block from Crime Alley.<p>

He raised two fingers to his comm link."Nightwing, any sign of her?"

There'd been signs of Poison Ivy's work around Aparo Park. With Robin injured, Batman had called Nightwing in from Bludhaven to help bring her in. Tim had taken up the task of finding and subduing the citizens who came into contact with her newest toxin. He'd just stopped a man attempting to force himself on a woman in a dark alleyway in the East End, jabbing the man in the neck with the antitoxin. He'd sent the woman to her apartment and told her to spread the word that it wasn't safe on the streets tonight. Though, in Gotham it almost never was.

"Nothing yet, Red. B and I are getting the GCPD to block off the area around the park until she's found. "

"Alright, keep me posted," he said.

He'd just started counting off the number of antitoxin vials he had left, when he caught a flash of yellow and green out of the corner of his eye. Tim turned sharply, just in time to catch sight of the signature Robin colors as the boy leaps via grappling line towards the next building. Tim growled and adjusted the frequency on his comm link.

"Demon Brat, what are you doing on patrol? B said you can't patrol when you're injured. You're supposed to be in the cave giving us updates about Poison Ivy's activity in the city."

"Tt-please. I will not be resigned to desk duty. If anything it should be you in the cave, since it seems to be the only thing you're good for."

Tim rolled his eyes behind the white-out lenses of his mask, refusing to take the bait. "Robin, go back to the cave before I tell Batman ."

"Tt—Batman has more important things to concern himself with at this moment."

"Either you go back or I take you back. I'm not catching trouble for you being a brat." Tim hoped his ultimatum would have the right effect.

"Like you could make me, Red."

Tim took out his grappling hook and readied it. _Of course he wouldn't listen to me_, he thought to himself, as he broke out into a run in the direction Damian had gone off in. He shot his grappling hook across to the next building and swung off into pursuit of the little demon spawn Bruce and Dick so affectionately dubbed family.

When Tim finally caught up to Damian...it was in the middle of a fire fight with some of Black Mask's henchmen. Tim watched Robin charge one of the men, katana slicing the air around him. The goon's gun was knocked from his hand, a second blow to the face had him spitting out blood. Robin ducked a wild punch, pivoting and coming up behind the man to deliver a swift kick to his back.

Tim watched all this from above, he saw the way Damian was favoring one leg more than the other, the tear to his calf muscle giving him a slight limp, not fully healed yet. Damian was an idiot if he believed he was in any condition to spar let alone take this fight to the streets. That injury was slowing his movements, his stance less steady, his kicks weaker.

The last goon was hiding behind a dumpster, shooting blindly into the mouth of the alley. Red Robin leapt, bo staff ready, from his perch on the roof ledge. He landed behind the henchman who whipped around violently at the impact of his boots with the gritty pavement. Before the man could even raise his gun, Tim slashed his bo staff in an arch across his body, connecting with the man's face and knocking him into the brick wall. The man let his gun clatter to the ground, out cold.

Tim turned on Damian, who stood staring at him, arms crossed, with a look of annoyance. "About time you caught up, Drake."

"No names in the field." Tim snapped as he started to tie up the thugs to leave for the GCPD.

"-Tt-"

Tim rolled his eyes, expecting nothing less from the 10 year old hero.

"Red Robin..." Damian started, and it was something about the lack of snobbery in his voice that had Tim turning in alarm. Damian was staring down at his body, fingers pressing into a dark patch on his shoulder. His green gloved hand came back wet.

"Shit." Tim breathed and was at his side in an instant, pressing a firm hand into his shoulder. "Let's get you back to the cave."

Tim pulled Damian into the Batcave and straight into the infirmary. He sat the boy on one of the tables and made quick work of stripping off his suit. Tim grabbed gauze pads out of a nearby drawer and pressed them into Damian's shoulder wound.

"Damian, put pressure on the wound for me. I need to get supplies."

Damian seemed to not hear him, his eyes closed in concentration.

"Hey!" Tim snapped his fingers in front of his face. Damian glowered at him, but at least his eyes were open now.

"I know it hurts, okay? I'll give you morphine just as soon as I get the bullet out and stitch you up."

"Tt. The bullet isn't what's giving me pains. It was your incessant jabbering the whole way here."

Tim watched him pressed the gauze to his wound and pointedly ignored the sharp intake of breath. He moved throughout the infirmary, gathering the supplies he needed. When he returned to Damian's side, the pads in his hand had bleed through. Tim washed out the wound and sent up a silent thank you that the bullet wound was a through and through, at least this way Tim could spare Damian the pain of having to dig it out. He stitched up the two holes neatly, taped on gauze pads, and wrapped Damian's shoulder.

"Morphine, Drake. I haven't got all day." Damian snapped.

Tim retrieved the syringe and injected Damian in the arm.

"You could say "thank you". I did just save you from bleeding out."

"You're right. I could say that." Damian replied.

Tim crossed his arms and waited for the words to come. After a complete minute, Tim raised an eyebrow at him. "Well?"

"Tt- I said I could, not that I would, Drake."

Tim dropped his arms to his sides. "Unbelievable...you're unbelievable. Lay down or something. I'm taking a shower."

He left the med bay and started stripping out of his suit. He folded the suit and placed it on a table. The hot water in the showers was a welcome reward for a night of fighting crime. He rinsed the grime and sweat of Gotham out of his hair, scrubbed hard at his arms and neck to removed dried blood, mostly Damian's. He would have loved to stay under the hot spray longer, but ten minutes later, Damian's shrill voice was yelling his name.

Fearing torn stitching, Tim wrapped at towel around his waist and ran back to the infirmary bed Damian sat on. "What's wrong?"

"Ask Grayson. He's tearing the whole cave apart." Damian pointed across the cave. He was right, drawers hung over, contents spilled onto the floor.

"Dick? " he asked. "What are you doing back so early? Did you and B find Ivy?"

Dick gripped the tabletop he was demolishing and squeezed his eyes shut tightly like he was in pain.

"Father isn't back." answered Damian, "It's just Grayson who tore into the cave like a madman. He won't tell me what's going on."

"Dick? Tim asked warily, "Are you alright?"

Dick came towards him and Tim thought he was going to get an explanation, but Dick just stumbled past him into the med bay and started pulling open more drawers.

"What are you looking for?" Damian asked.

Dick just pushed his hands into his eyes like he was going insane. Tim shared a worried glance with Damian.

"Dick," Tim called. "Let me get changed and I'll help you look."

He hurried to pulled on boxers and a pair of sweats. He returned to see the med bay just as destroyed as the rest of the cave and Tim had a feeling that Batman wouldn't appreciate that. Tim picked his way over to Dick carefully.

"Dick, what are you looking for? What's wrong?" Tim grasped his shoulder to spin him around. When he saw Dick's face up close, he was even less relieved. Sweat was dripping from the man's brow and his breaths were short and quick. Tim pulled his hand back...or he tried to because suddenly Dick was gripping Tim's wrist painfully tight.

"Tim...antitoxin...Ivy...hurry." Dick cast a worried look towards Damian. "I can't...I can't—"

"It's okay. I have some in my suit." Tim ran back to the where he'd left his suit folded on the table. Not sparing a second, he grabbed the whole utility belt and ran back to Dick.

"See? We're fine. I have two left." He tried to keep his voice light, but he'd never actually seen Dick high on Poison Ivy's sex pollen and he wasn't sure it was something he ever wanted to come face to face with. Especially with Damian in the cave. Every other time Nightwing had been dosed with the toxin, Batman had been around to deal with it.

Tim pulled out a syringe and uncapped it.

"Let me." Dick ground out and now Tim could really seem how hard Dick was fighting the effects of the toxin. When Dick looked up at Tim, he almost took at step back at Dick's pupil's, which were unnaturally large. He handed him the syringe.

Dick closed one hand into a fist and poised the needle over the obtruding vein. Tim watched nervously as Dick tried to inject himself with sweaty hands.

"Maybe you should let me—" Tim started.

"I've got it." said Dick.

"There isn't time for—"

"Fuck!" Dick cried as the syringe slipped from his grasp and cracked on the cold floor. Tim started at the liquid pooling out of the syringe into a puddle on the floor. Then remembered the crisis at hand.

He picked up the last syringe on the table and pulled Dick's arm towards him.

"Here, just let me—"

Dick's hand encased Tim's wrist again and Tim's chest clenched painfully when he looked at Dick's face and saw a smile.

"No. Timmy." _Oh. no_...


	2. Chapter 2

_Succedaneum: A person or thing that takes the place of another_

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><p>"Dick..." Tim tried to keep his voice even. He let his arm go slack, hoping Dick would be convinced he wasn't a threat. "Just let me inject you. It'll make you feel better. I promise."<p>

"I feel fine, though...real good actually." Dick placed his other hand on Tim's side. He tried to ignore the heat of his brother's fingers through his shirt.

It was now or never...

Tim didn't even get a chance. The moment he tensed, his wrist holding the syringe was twisted back painfully. Tim refused to let go of the antitoxin though, he made a blind grasp for it with his free hand, only to have that arm shoved aside and held. Dick turned and shoved him back into the supply cabinet. Tim stifled a groan as his back was stabbed along his spine by the column of metal handles.

"Let go, Timmy." Dick's breath was hot against his cheek and Tim turned his face away. He tried to shove a leg behind Dick's knee, hoping if he could wrestle him to the ground he'd stand a chance. But, the moment he opened his stance, Dick was there shoving a knee between his legs and pressing him up against the cabinet.

Tim could feel Dick's nose pushing behind his ear into his wet hair, teeth scraping at his neck, the unyielding press of Dick's suit armor against his clothed torso. "C'mon Tim, drop the syringe. We'll have fun. I promise."

Tim's stomach shriveled like a raisin in the sun. That didn't sound like the Dick he knew at all.

Around Dick's oppressive form, Tim could see Damian trying to get down from the table, the morphine clearly at full effect as he swayed slightly upon standing. "Drake—"

"Damian, stay there!" he shouted.

Thank God for once the demon spawn actually listened to him.

A fresh streak of pain erupted in Tim's arm as Dick slammed his hand into the cabinet front. Tim gritted his teeth and willed his fingers to clench tighter. "Dick, please stop!"

"I'd forgotten about Dami. Do you think he'd like to join in?" Dick panted into his ear. Tim felt sick, because the brother he knew would never even insinuate such a thing.

His wrist was struck again, and again, and again...Tim used his hips to force Dick back a step. He pushed his back into the medical cabinets and bucked forwards, trying to shove his knee up into Dick's stomach to keep some distance between them. Something was poking him in the gut. _Don't think about it. Don't think about it_, he chanted in his head. Dick shoved his knee away like it was nothing.

When Dick smacked his hand back the next time, his wrist hit the corner, stabbing between his wrist bones like a scalpel. The reaction was so sudden, Tim didn't even realize he wasn't holding anything until he heard the smash of glass on stone.

"Shit."

Dick just chuckled and started grinding his hips into Tim's. There was no more denying what _that _was now. "Timmy, Timmy. My pretty little Timmy."

"Please..." though Tim didn't really know what he was pleading for. The pollen in Dick's veins obstructed all rational thought, leaving just a primal need for touch and pleasure. Dick twisted his body around to stare at Damian and Tim didn't like the implication. Damian was a child and if anyone was going to have to suffer at the hands of Dick's sex addled brain it would be Tim. The way he figured it, Damian was the one that mattered in the long run.

"Let me touch you." Tim tried to force lust into his voice.

"Gonna fight me again, Timmy?" Dick gazed at him.

"No." To emphasize his point, Tim grinded his hips up into Dick's, even though he was completely inexperienced in the matter.

"Face the other way, Dami." Dick commanded and Tim could only hope that he did as told.

Dick had a lot of height over him, like a lot of his family members. Tim reached around Dick's neck and pulled his head down to his level. Dick invaded his mouth in a hungry, open mouth kiss. It was messy and long enough to leave Tim breathless, let alone give him enough time to think about the fact that he was kissing his brother. A tongue explored his mouth, licking at the backside of his teeth.

Hot hands were shoving up his sweatshirt, gliding up his ribcage, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Tim gripped the fabric of Dick's Nightwing suit and tugged. "Off."

Dick's hands left his body to yanked the zipper down the back of his suit. He ripped his gloves off and starting tugging his arms out of the sleeves. But when Dick's hands weren't touching him, his mouth made up lost time, mouthing at his neck, breathing obscenities into his ear, and nipping and thoroughly abusing Tim's lips.

Dick pulled away for a single moment to strip down completely. Then the full weight of him was against Tim again. Tim found his arms whipped into the air suddenly as his sweatshirt was ripped over his head and thrown across the room. Dick's mouth descended lower and Tim exhaled a shuttering breath, one arm thrown over Dick's broad, slick shoulders to lift himself higher. Something wet and hot streaked up Tim's chest and he shrieked despite himself, realizing a second later that Dick had licked a strip up his abs, between his pecs, stopping at the hollow of his throat.

Forcing back his discomfort, Tim thrust a hand down Dick's underwear. He grasped the cup and pulled it out. Dick started thrusting his groin against his thigh, making Tim's job so much easier. He wasn't sure how he was going to get his leg into that position.

"Someone's eager, aren't we?" Dick groaned and shot a hand up to twist one of his nipples, roughly. Tim fell back heavily against the cabinet, his hands gripping a handle on the drawer above his head. He gave it a small tug. It slid outwards slightly.

"You have no idea." Tim groaned and tugged the drawer forwards until his could grip it with one hand from the side. His other hand pulled Dick into a messy kiss. They pulled back for breath.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Dick looked up. Tim thrust his knee up sharply into Dick's exposed groin. Without the protection of the athletic cup, Dick doubled over in a strangled cry, but as Tim knew that wasn't going to stop him. With a animalistic growl Dick lunged towards him, Tim flung the metal drawer above him forward, catching Dick in the forehead.

He dropped instantly. And Tim made a reckless sprint towards Damian.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim latched onto Damian and dragged him stumbling for a second before the kid could figure out what was happening. He pulled Damian towards the stairs that led up to the manor through the secret entrance behind the grandfather clock. They were nearly there when the earsplitting noise of a siren erupted throughout the cave, followed by the _thump-thump-thump_ sound of gates crashing down against the stone floor. Tim looked to his right and twisted his hand in Damian's t-shirt, throwing himself backwards and jerking Damian off his feet. They landed in a tangle of limbs on the floor right as the gate crashed down two inches from Damian's extended leg. A solid, 4 inch thick, wall had dropped down between the stairs and them and as Tim watched beams shot out of the gate towards the sides locking the door into place. Gas erupted from the vents above the door as the aerosol filtration system kicked in.

Tim whipped around and saw Dick standing with his hand still on the biocontainment emergency lever. The sound of latches slamming into place echoed around the cave as Tim watched all the exits being blocked off. He really had thought they were going to make it out of this, lock Dick in the cave, call Batman and wait for him to come and fix everything.

He realized now that all he'd really done was make Dick angry and trap them for real. Tim knew that Batman would get the containment alert in the Batmobile. If he would get here in time, Tim didn't know. The wailing siren shut off with a flick of a switch by Dick, the only sound left in the room was the hiss of gas filling the chamber.

Behind him, Damian rose to his feet. Tim did the same.

"Has there been an incident in the cave, young masters?"Alfred's voice spoke up over the speaker system. "the contamination security measures had been acti—"

The butler's voice cut off suddenly, as Dick put a fist through the speaker box.

"There," Dick sighed, looking like the king of the castle. "That's better."

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to fight me, Tim. And Damian...going right along with this rebellious behavior. I think a punishment is in the works for both of you."

Tim clenched his hands into fists by his sides, a sick feeling curling in his gut. He had a feeling that anything Dick would find pleasurable in his current state would be punishment enough for them both.

"Do whatever you want to me, but you are _not_ laying a hand on Damian."

Dick tipped his head to the side, eyebrow arched in an expression that he said he found that almost comical. He took leisurely steps towards the pair of boys, and in only his boxers Tim could see all of his well defined muscles stretching and contracting with each step. The sheer bulk of the man approaching him. There was no mistaking the bulge in his underwear.

"Uh-uh, Timmy. You had your chance, now it's Damian's turn." Dick eyes roamed Damian's form, who flushed but didn't avert his gaze. "How 'bout it, Dami?"

"I'd sooner eat my katana." Damian spat. His glare almost deteriorated when Dick stepped closer, but Tim sidestepped, shoving himself in between the two of them. Dick unconsciously learned into Tim's form, the effects of Ivy's pollen overtaking his body.

"Damian, stay behind me." Tim ordered to the boy behind him. Dick glare darkened at his words. As quick as a snake, Dick's hand lashed out and grasped Tim by the throat. He was yanked sideways roughly, the grip on his neck painfully aware to him. Tim gasped and clutched at his older brother's wrist as his feet started to lift from the floor, until he was balancing on his toes.

"Jason always said you liked it rough. Is that what you want, Tim? Want me to tie you up and fuck you?" As he spoke he rubbed the thumb of his hand that was choking him up and down Tim's neck in a mocking attempt at affection.

"Grayson, unhand him!" Damian lunged at Dick.

"No!" Tim choked and tried to jerk free of his brother's grasp, but Dick's hold only grew tighter. Damian attacked Dick's middle, but Dick just wrapped a thick arm around Damian's waist and lifted him up, pinning him against his side.

"Aarrhh" Damian snarled like a rabid animal. He kicked and squirmed. Tim too tried to land a few kicks into Dick's side, but every time he tried, he'd lose his precious footing and ended up dangling from Dick's hold until he could regain his balance.

"There, now. My two favorite little brothers, all for the taking. Let's go somewhere we can get down to business, hmm?"

Dick walked back towards the med bay. Tim thrashed and cursed, trying to pry Dick's fingers off his skin. He struggled to dig his heels into the ground. Anything to slow down their progress. Once they were back in the medical bay, Tim was thrown against the same wretched supply cabinet. Before he could even attempt a retaliation, Dick sucker punched him so hard Tim thought he might have forgotten how to breath. He crumpled into himself and slid to the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his abused torso.

"C'mere, Dami." Dick snatched a pair of zip ties from a drawer and pulled Damian over to one of the examination tables and manhandled him into a position he like, zip tying his hands to the side rail.

"Grayson, please don't—"

Tim could hear the fear in his brother's voice. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and turned his head to the side in time to see Dick brushing back the hair from Damian's forehead.

"Shhhh" Dick cooed against the young Robin's ear. His hand slid down from the boy's hair to his thighs and Damian, realizing too late what his brother was planning, attempted to pull his knees into his chest. He yanked at his bound hands and writhed under the unwanted hands as Dick shoved his legs down and apart.

"He's just a kid. Get off of him!" Tim lurched sideways and threw himself on to Dick's back, arms finding their way around his neck. He didn't have enough body weight to pull Dick off, but it was enough to divert his attention. The result was Dick struggling to his feet, Tim hanging off him in an awkward piggy-back. Dick twisted and suddenly Tim found himself slammed into the wall, the force breaking his grip and sending him crashing to the ground.

"Alright, Timmy. You want to be my sacrificial lamb? You got it."

Dick fisted his dark hair and hauled him into the center of the med bay floor. He flipped him onto his stomach and yanked his arms behind his back, binding them together with a zip tie. The cold stone of the floor raised the hair on Tim's exposed upper body, the only heat coming from the large hand Dick planted between his shoulder blades, pressing him to the ground.

"You remember that crush you used to have on me, Tim?" Dick asked as he yanked Tim's legs apart and planted himself between them. His free hand immediately went to groping his ass through his sweatpants. Tim willing himself to be strong like Batman would want him to be. He wouldn't cry. "Well, dream's finally coming true."

As Dick yanked his sweatpants to around his ankles though, the first sob burst out of him unbidden.

No one was prepared for the lights to cut black, plunging the cave into absolute darkness. There was a moment where nobody moved a muscle, then Tim jumped in fear at the booming explosion and what sounded like the entire cave falling down around them. _It's Batman_, Tim thought, _he used the explosives in the Batmobile to shoot through one of the doors. _

As the last tumbling chunks of cement hit the floor, the sound of running feet was suddenly discernible. Dick's form was still pressing down over Tim, but then all of a sudden the weight was ripped off of him with a gust of wind. The sounds of a struggle erupted to Tim's left, a boot stomping down on Tim's shoulder, only to lift a second later. Tim rolled onto his back and used his feet to slide himself back towards Damian, desperate to get out of the trampling range of the fight currently dominating most of the med bay.

There was a crash and then silence...

Tim was afraid to speak up, the fear that Bruce might not have won overtaking him, but with the night vision lenses of Batman's mask in place the logical answer won out.

"Batman," Tim called. "Bruce."

"Not the Bat, Replacement." A gruff voice spoke up in the general vicinity.

"Please tell that isn't Todd's voice I hear." Damian snapped, though some of the venom was missing in his tone. He might have actually been happy for the second Robin's arrival.

"Jason?" Tim asked incredulous, "What-How...no. What are you doing here?"

"Got a distress call from Oracle...though I suppose it was really from Alfred. Said something was going down in the cave with Dickhead. Naturally I jumped on any opportunity to kick the shit out of golden-boy. Keep talkin' would ya? Al's supposed to turning the power back on, but I can't see a damn thing."

"You didn't kill him, did you?" Tim asked. "Dick, I mean."

"No, course not," Jason's voice seem to materialize right next to him, along with a pair of hands. Tim jerked away in surprise. "Hold still Babybird. You want out of these ties or what?"

"I gave him the antitoxin." Jason continued.

The hands returned to his wrists and Tim could feel the tugging motion of Jason's knife sawing through the plastic. The plastic snapped apart, just as the lights blazed back to life with harsh brightness. Tim clamped his eyes shut, waiting for them to adjust, and when he finally opened them again Jason was staring at his disordered state of dress. Tim hastily yanked his sweats back around his hips.

"I might have if it had been anyone else. But Dick...I know he'd never..." Jason trailed off, caught sight of Damian still tied to the rail of the medical table and went to cut him free.

Dick lay unconscious in a heap on the floor. Jason made no move to help him, but steadied Tim by his elbow as he rose to his feet. He leaned in to speak into Tim's ear and Tim tried his best not to bristle at the closeness.

"Bruce will be here in about 10 minutes. You should clean yourself up while you get the chance. He'll want to talk to you about...what happened."

Tim tried not to think about the questions Bruce would ask him. Most everything would have been caught on tape by the cave's video cameras and when Dick woke up...

Tim pulled away and headed for the stairs.

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><p>AN: I'm not sure if I should add one last chapter after this or just end it here...<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

This is a shout out to **Silly60** and **Robin Rider**: Thank you for supporting my first ever fanfic! This chapter is for you upon your insistence.

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><p>Even though Jason had told him Bruce would be back at the manor in 10 minutes, Tim couldn't bring himself to take a quick shower. The hot water beating down on his skin drowned out the sensory memory of hands wandering his skin and the lingering sensation of another's weight against his back. As he scrubbed his skin clean, it was an entirely different sort of dirt that washed off.<p>

When Tim finally left his room, hair wet and dressed in fresh clothing, he was a bit taken aback to see Jason seated against the wall across from his door. Right next to the door to his old room that he'd claimed when he was Robin before he died, which Tim founding interesting, but since Jason made no indication of noticing it, Tim didn't bring it up.

"You don't need to keep an eye on me, Jason. I'm not going to self-destruct." he said, instead.

Jason got to his feet. "I'm not here to keep an eye on you."

Tim snorted and started for the stairs. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not." Jason repeated. Tim stopped walking, because Jason sounded very serious and Tim had learned not to ignore the vigilante when he spoke in that tone.

"I was sitting there to discourage Dick from ambushing you at your door." he continued.

Tim was almost afraid to ask, which in a way scared him more than the answer itself, but he forced himself to ask anyway. "Dick—is he awake?"

"Yes..." There was a shuffle and then a touch on his shoulder. "Are you okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Tim turned to face him. Jason's face was reserved and Tim was struck with annoyance that he had no idea what the second Robin was thinking. "That's a good thing, it means the anti-toxin worked. He's back to normal."

"He attacked you, Tim. He very nearly—" Jason rubbed a hand across the stubble of his face, like he'd brought up something he shouldn't have. Tim had never seen Jason act so careful around him before, like he was a glass doll. He supposed the sentiment would be almost thoughtful if it wasn't so annoying at the moment. This was Jason, who had attacked him multiple times over his career and had almost killed him at least once, and the fact that he thought Dick doing something like this would break him was just infuriating.

"What are you trying to say to me, Jason?" Tim snapped.

Jason sighed, looking uncomfortable. "I want you to know that you don't have to talk to him right away if you don't want to. Damian for sure doesn't. I'm just letting you know that he already watched the tapes. He knows was happened, what he d—what he almost did, and I want you to know that you have a choice in talking to him about it. Don't feel forced."

"He's my brother." Tim stated.

"So?" replied Jason.

"He was drugged, it's not his fault what he did." Tim sighed, "I owe it to him to talk to him. To forgive him."

"Jesus Christ, Replacement!" Jason shouted and clenched his hand into a ball, looking like he really wanted to put his fist through a wall. "That's the problem with you, you know? The people you care the most about screw you over, again and again, and you're just _so_ _eager_ to forgive them. Geez, kid. Hold a grudge for once in your life! Enough with the hero worship, because I have some news for you, we don't deserve it. No one in this family is a prime example of sainthood. So stop thinking we can do no wrong, because Dick—your _precious_ older brother— just tried to fucking rape you and your ten year old brother. At least Damian is acting like I'd expect. Why are you so calm? Stop pretending like this doesn't affect you, because you're not fooling anyone."

Tim tried to keep his eyes locked with Jason, but suddenly found he couldn't as a prickling sensation started up behind his eyes. He crossed his arms and stared resolutely at the floor, unwilling to let Jason see. "And how exactly should I be acting, Jason? Should I cry and fight and blame everybody but myself? Do you want my relationship with Dick to end up like you and Bruce? I don't know if you heard, but everyone I know is _dead_—Conner, Bart, Stephanie, my father—_they're all_ _dead!_ So excuse me for trying to not push away the only person that I have left!"

"It still doesn't make it right, Babybird." Jason's voice softened, sounding almost pleading. "What happened in the cave tonight... you can't just sweep those things under the rug. They leave scars. Nothing's going to be normal between you two for awhile."

"I know," Tim said. "Which is why I'm going to talk to him." He turned away, but stopped halfway.

"Thanks, though." he glanced back over his shoulder.

Jason threaded a hand through his hair, the white streak in his bangs gliding through his fingers. "For what?"

"You always tell me the truth, no matter how harsh it is. I didn't realize how much I appreciate that, until now."

Jason gave a dry laugh. "Finally, someone who loves me for my personality."

Jason punched him in the shoulder and made his way ahead of him down the stairs.

"Come on. Bruce's waiting for you in the study."

Tim knocked on the smooth wood door to Bruce's study. He was struck with the knowledge that he'd never been in the room for anything good. Tim blamed it on the location of the study; right by the master bedroom of Wayne Manor, out of the way of prying eyes and ears. The study was the scene of many fights and serious talks between Bruce and his children, Dick and Jason especially.

"Come in," Bruce called from within the room. Tim opened the door, peaking his head in first to see what he was walking into, but all he saw was Bruce with a drink in hand looking out one of the large glass windows of his study into the back gardens. As Tim stepped into the room he noticed that Bruce had yet to change completely out of his Batman suit. Most of his armor was removed exposing the bodysuit he wore underneath, the arm gauntlets rested on the side of his desk.

The door clicked shut behind Tim as he approached the desk, Bruce finally turning to face him at the sound of it. He swallowed hard as he was laid bare to his mentor's gaze, because the man looking at him right now, assessing him for signs of injury was the Batman. When he was done looking him over, Tim watched him turn towards the bar stand and pour himself another drink from the glass decanter. When the man looked back up at him, Tim blew all of the air out of his lungs in one nervous breath, because Tim was adapt at dealing with the Batman, but Bruce Wayne was a mystery to him.

"Come sit down, Tim." Bruce motioned to the chairs in front of his desk with his glass. He waited for Tim to seat himself and then perched on the edge of the desk in front of him, looking more than a little uncomfortable. He placed his glass down next to his hip and clasped his hands together.

"Tim..."Bruce started and seemed to falter immediately. "I wanted to make sure that you're alright...that your—"

Bruce's eyes dropped from Tim's face to his neck. Tim knew what he was thinking. He had looked at the damage in the mirror after coming out of the shower. He knew the bruises were already starting to form there.

Tim shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I'm alright, Bruce. You saw on the tapes that nothing bad happened."

"It was hard to tell for all of it. There was some...activity between you and Dick before the biocontainment alarm was pulled. I have no idea what happened and Dick doesn't particularly remember who started it. Damian won't talk to anyone. I'm sorry to have to ask—"

Tim shook his head. "No, I understand. It was me. I encouraged Dick to become physical with me. I was hoping to distract him long enough to escape with Damian."

"Tim, I hope I don't have to tell you how tremendously reckless that was." Bruce scolded him. "To encourage Dick in any kind of sexual act while under the influence of Ivy's pollen...you would have been better off just knocking him out."

Tim huffed a laugh, swiping his bangs out of his eyes. "Please, me? Knock out Dick? You're kidding me right?"

Bruce's glare pinned him to his seat. "You've fought criminals a lot stronger. Are you trying to tell me you can take down Bane but not your older brother? Do you want me to keep you off patrol? Because, trust me when I tell you that I can."

Tim picked at the fabric of his sweatpants, already regretting his sass. "No, I'm sorry. I just meant that I've trained with Dick for half my career and no matter how much time I spent training around the world alone learning things he didn't, he knows how I think. If I were to fight him for real, I have a feeling he'd beat me at my own game."

"You shouldn't be so quick to discredit your talents. Out of all of my robins, Tim, you're the quickest thinker." Bruce said. The compliment was short lived as he was quick to add, "But there is a different between quick thinking and reckless thinking and you're old enough to know the difference."

"There was no time, Bruce." Tim exclaimed. He knew that he was verging into territory that he did not want to have to discuss with Bruce, but from the critical expression that overtook Bruce's face, Tim knew there was no way of avoiding it.

"Explain," Bruce commanded, full bat-voice in place.

Tim sighed. "I was keeping Dick distracted from Damian. You must have seen the condition Damian was in; bullet wound just stitched up, dosed up with morphine, and still not even fully healed from his last injury. The brat wouldn't have stood a chance in a fight."

"I don't understand."

"Dick only had eyes for Damian," Tim wanted to add, _like always, _but thought better of it. "I just happened to be in the room...in the way."

"Damian's ten years old. Surely Dick wouldn't have..." Bruce seemed lost in terrible thoughts. When he came to, it was with a sudden understanding. "You willing surrendered to Dick to keep him from hurting Damian."

"Of course I did. I might not like the demon brat, but I'm not heartless." Tim couldn't keep the hostility out of his voice. Tim thought he finally understood why Jason went around killing people who messed with kids. The thought alone was made Tim want to be sick.

"You shouldn't have done that, Tim. Damian might be a child, but so are you!"

Tim jumped to his feet. "I'm 17, Bruce, I'm not a child anymore. I'm old enough to give consent, Damian however isn't. So when it comes to either letting Dick fuck me or your son, it will be me every time. _Every_. _Time_."

Bruce stood up from his desk and Tim was ready for him to yell at him, ground him, just some kind of punishment. Instead he tugged him into a hug, stroking a hand against the back of his head. "You're my son, too. I worry for your safety just as much as Damian's."

Tim wrapped his arms around Bruce's back. "Alright."

When Tim left Bruce's study, he wasn't even surprised to see Dick waiting around outside like a stray dog hoping to grab some scraps from the dinner table. In fact, Dick looked just as miserable as a begging dog. Jason was slouched against the wall next to him, putting off the appearance of relaxation, but Tim could see the tension in his arms, the slight twitching of his fingers. Dick perked up at the sight of him, taking a step forward. Jason was quick to grip his shoulder, muttering a soft "Wait" in his ear.

Jason eyed him, silently asking if he was okay with this. Tim knew that Jason wouldn't hesitate to pull Dick out of the way if Tim gave the slightest hint of discomfort.

Instead, Tim nodded his head, swallowing hard. Jason released Dick's shoulder reluctantly and took a step back. When Dick made no sign of doing anything crazy, Jason turned and walked off completely.

"Hey, little brother." Dick approached him cautiously, "Can we talk?"

"Yeah," Tim could practically feel Bruce's presence on the other side of his study door, listening in. "Somewhere else though."

"Sure, sure." Dick lead the way into the library and they sat on a leather couch there together. The awkward silence stretched between them, punctuated only by darting glances when they thought the other wasn't looking. Finally, Tim couldn't take it any longer.

"Have you talked to Damian?" he asked, fingers twisting the fabric of his pants.

Dick made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "I tried. I wanted to apologize to him."

Tim cleared his throat. "Jason implied that he didn't want to talk to you just yet."

"He aimed a throwing knife at my eye and informed me he wasn't the one I should be talking to. Told me I'd better beg you for your forgiveness on my hands and knees. I don't even know how to apologize for something like this, though. If I was in your spot, Tim, I don't think I'd be talking to me right now—"

"Dick, don't," Tim looked at him and saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes. He wanted so much to wrap an arm around him and comfort his brother, but even this proximity was too much for him to bear for long. It was taking all of his will to stay in the room.

"I'm _so_, _so_ _sorry_, little brother." Dick whispered.

"You're my brother. We can work through this. It'll take time, but I promise we will get back to normal."

"I'm disgusted with myself." Dick confessed, tears running freely down his face now. "I watched those tapes from the cave security and it felt like a stranger was doing those things dressed like me. Except..." He heaved a shuttering breath, "except I remember the feel of your hair when I grabbed it and the pulse in your neck under my fingers."

Dick reached out a hand towards his neck and Tim couldn't stifle his flinch of panic. Dick's face fell into his hands, but Tim could still make out his words between his fingers. "God, look what I did to your neck!"

"It doesn't hurt so bad." Tim lied hoping to bring him some comfort. He placed a gentle hand on his older brother's shoulder.

"You sound like you swallowed sandpaper, Tim." Dick argued.

"You need to give yourself a break, Dick. You were high on Ivy's sex pollen."

"I know, but I just keep thinking that the only reason you came back was because Damian had disobeyed Bruce. What if Damian hadn't and it had just been him in the cave? What if—"

"It wouldn't have happened." Tim cut across him.

"You don't know that—" Dick started to argued, but Tim stopped him again.

"It wouldn't have, Dick. Trust me. Damian would have knocked you out first thing and tied you up until Bruce got back. He's not a soft as I am." He reassured him.

Dick laughed quietly, the tears starting to slow in their decent from his eyes. He reached across the space between them and took Tim's hand in his own. "Thank you for keeping Dami safe. I know he's not easy to deal with, but he's a good kid underneath it all."

"I know and he'll forgive you soon enough. I'll try to talk to him later, alright?"

Dick nodded. Tim withdrew his hand from his brothers and made his way out of the room. He headed back to his room, his body suddenly remembering how late it was. Weariness settling into his bones with every step up the stairs. He had his hand on the doorknob to his room when there was a creak down the hall.

Tim turned and saw a small face peering out at him from Damian's room. The hall light illuminating just his eyes, the rest of his features hidden in darkness of his room. The boy didn't say anything to him, just stared at him intently. A message that didn't need words passed between them.

Tim nodded his understanding and slipped into his room. The door fell shut behind him.


End file.
